


Unbound

by seekingjets



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M, Not Beta Read, megatron has a boner for his favorite killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingjets/pseuds/seekingjets
Summary: “AU where Starscream is Megatron’s favorite freelance assassin instead of his second-in-command “Recruitment is always a pain.





	Unbound

**Author's Note:**

> based off the most beautiful of art by cydraulics who is a /gift/.

[(Art here)](https://cydraulics.tumblr.com/image/180970032615)

\---

“I want the warp gate fully functional by the time we arrive,” Megatron pays little mind to the groveling before him. “No further excuses.” His command is law and sends the faceless soldiers ducking back to the fold, lucky their careless incompetence did not cost them limb or life. Soundwave remains quiet at his side while the throne room becomes an irritation of buzzing voices and shapeless forms vying for his attention where they stand at his feet. The dais overlooking the huddled mass of commanders and decorated soldiers, none more interesting than the last. **  
**

His mind spun with tension, irritation and disappointment at the failure of the past few raids. The ineptitude of these, his alleged elite, now swatting at one another like unleashed sparklings scrambling after a fuel canister.

“What’s our next order of business?” He growls to Soundwave, a pillar of stability at his right. Strict and silent his Second flickers a holo-display to life in their dexterous servos. Manipulating light and arranging the chaos below in neat rows which did nothing to leash the mad pile of soldiers at their feet.

“Oh me first…” A voice like a shrill whistle cuts through the haze, the great doors never parting to grant entrance to their unexpected guest. But, Megatron supposes, the owner of that voice has never liked using doors if a more theatrical entrance was available.

The turmoil of high command swiftly stills and the crowd parts wider than needed to accomodate the breadth of tall wings. All optics fall to the sway of angular hips, the rhythmic click of narrow heels on metal floors like a song announcing the seeker’s arrival. High silver plating, sharp and bladed things framing obscene thighs while across the compact frame bio lights are a flickering tease, snaking their intricate patterns up the tapered waist.

That familiar gaze unmoving, casting the dark face in violent light, as Starscream stands with hip cocked at the foot of the platform. And when he smiles up at Megatron, Megatron finds it near impossible not to grin in return. Infectious and thrilling.

“You’re late, Starscream.”

“Am I?” He cooes, helm tilting to the side and flutters optics towards the unimpressed crowd. (Where plenty lost their will to scowl in exchange for staring down the length of the sleek frame) “These gatherings are for your commanders. I’m a mere guest, Lord Megatron.” His tone draws out the title like as a hiss and Megatron finds his systems warm in response.

“Clear the hall.” His order steel and sure toned, leaving no room for complaint for the lingering soldiers glaring or openly ogling the seeker. Megatron makes note of their faces, but knows Starscream is doing the same though he has yet to move his gaze off the throne.

The room empties with grousing and grievances ignored for the shine of pale light crawling up Starscream’s wings when he shifts in the slightest. Megatron pulls his servo to a lax fist against the armrest to keep his focus. Best to not lose thought for the exaggerated lines of Starscream’s torso or the playful lights dripping down his frame.

“Soundwave, that includes you.”

“Lord Megatron?” Soundwave is efficient and loyal, intelligent and irreplaceable…but they fail miserably in reading the room.

“You did not alert me to Starscream’s presence on my ship.” Megatron states, careful and calm while below Starscream hides a venomous chuckle behind elongated claws. “Perhaps he’s capable of evading even your detection?”

“Negative.” Soundwave’s voice is strained, but they obey with a steady nod. Excusing themself with the eloquence expected of the one who stands at the throne’s right. Megatron can’t help but watch in shameless amusement as Soundwave lingers just briefly at Starscream’s left, expressionless visor meeting with the last sight of so many - a beautiful smile coated in the promise of death.

“Always good to see you, Soundwave” Starscream purrs and tracks the exiting steps with open delight. Wings jumping at the slamming of guarded doors. “They seem in a mood today.”

“You should learn to respect the officers of my army. Soundwave’s authority is second only to me.” The statement has those lethal red optics back on him, the glint of blades in the dark. “What do you have to report, Starscream?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” He sing-songs in time with the lazy click of heels as his body shifts in motion. One exaggerated step after another until legs are crossed and tight where he stands, creating a braided silhouette of his body. “The merchant leader of Cara-Oter died mysteriously,” Starscream’s fakes a gasp. “Though his protege and heir takes on the responsibility of the mining front. He’s quite eager to share in the offerings with your awaiting forces…as promised.”

“Such a tragedy.” Megatron rumbles amused, leaning back in his throne with thick legs spread. Comfortable in his domain where the blade-shaped seeker remains in sight. “As I recall he was quite fond of you…”

“Everyone is quite fond of me,” Thin mouth twitches in time with wings which catch Megatron’s attention. Starscream flares them for his viewing pleasure, light catching the gentle quiver of pale metal both sensitive and talented beyond replacement.

“Fine work Starscream,” Settles shoulders back, taking his time reviewing every inch of the seeker like it was the first time. The slant of sharp metal, the indecently narrow waist - to the sharp chin and even sharper mouth held in perfect symmetry by the elaborate helm. Ornamentations uncessesarcy but still had Megatron drawing his focus tenderly up the razor crown. “Fine work, indeed.”

“Fine, but not free.” He reminds, claws trailing idley up his thigh-guard, examining the sharp tips as if to inspect for dust or dirt. “I hope my set price isn’t too rich for your tastes?”

“Never.” Megatron answers perhaps too quickly, motioning to nothing at his side. “The agreed amount will be transferred to you upon confirmation of death.”

“Aw, you don’t trust me? I thought we worked so well together.” Starscream frowns coquettish and playful, leaving Megatron to withhold the chuckle he might have granted the teasing seeker in the face of the obvious.

“How can I when you don’t wear my badge?” Questions the assassin and watches elegant wings slump in what could very easily be annoyance. It’s somehow only appealing when worn by Starscream.

Megatron thinks of how carved violet might look on pale wings and his vents exhale warm and loud.

“Here we go again,” Starscream flicks at the air. “Recruitment time? Let’s hear all about those benefits.”

“This is hardly a laughing matter.” Megatron chides, though he finds a lack of annoyance at Starscream’s disinterest. “I see such great potential in you, Starscream. To let it go to waste…”

“Waste?” He scoffs at the thought. “I’m doing quite well for myself. What could you possibly offer to improve my current standing?”

They’ve held this same discussion countless times. Each time ending the same: with Starscream mocking the offer and swaying as he exits the room, chin high. Megatron sent recruiters, dealers, even Soundwave to try and entice the other to join him - but nothing seemed to catch the seeker’s attention.

But if arguing delayed the inevitable exit…

“You would be greatly admired, respected amongst my troops.”

“Your badge won’t validate my work. I’m already respected, feared even.”

“We have collected the universe’s greatest scientific minds, think of the upgrades - the technology you’d have at your casual grasp.”

“The greatest minds?” To this Starscream chuckled, a joke Megatron wasn’t privy to. “Surely not all of them. Besides, if you had anything I wanted I would have stolen it already.” Amazing the seeker was smiling now, a dazzling thing. His silhouette bows and neat hips were more a distraction than Megatron would like to admit. He squeezes a fist and Starscream most certainly notices judging by the quick shift of that red gaze.

“Power then. Surely you can agree I never hesitate to reward those who serve me best.”

“Oh?” That had Starscream’s attention and Megatron fought not to be tricked into believing he’d somehow interested the seeker. “And where would that put me, in what way might I serve you?”  He purrs and takes a daring step up the dais, but goes no further to Megatron’s disappointment, but not his surrender.

“I could wield you.” He answers with certainty, finding the shifting plates of Starscream’s compact waist highlighted in pulsing lights. “You’re an elegant blade now, but I could hammer you into something truly devastating.”

Starscream takes the remaining three steps in one, now level on the platform where Megatron waits and HUD struggles between a warning threat or an intimate preparation.

“Well, I do love a good hammering.” He teases, long legs and even stride bringing Starscream’s shin armor to just brush Megatron’s bent legs spread wide in his throne. “But tell me…”

They’ve been close before, years prior in the dark of Kaon at the beginning of the revolution. Megatron wonders if Starscream knows he remembers or would ever think their first meeting was so ingrained into his memories. Three lovely, curvaceous and wild seekers standing at his feet. One quick to kneel while his brothers remained struck with whatever awe his younger self inspired. Starscream was beautiful then and a menace to Megatron’s mental facilities now. The thought of three of them would send his frame into overdrive.

Distracted in memory Megatron was unprepared for the compact body to bend towards him, Starscream’s lengthened claws spread and smoothing a warm path up his thighs with a low vibration Megatron does not realize is his own engines. There is only the space between stretched legs for Starscream to inhabit: which he does. Effortlessly as he crawls over his frame following servos stroking their way over thick armor and trailing delicate between hefty seams.

A shin-guard presses like a threat on Megatron’s hip while the second leg bends across his thigh. Starscream only stills his advances when his legs are spread obscenely wide to straddle said thigh, adjusting his posture which only rolls hips low, warm metal grinding against the joint of Megatron’s lap and his frame gushes with a hot sigh across untouched wings.

“But tell me, if I wore your badge, let you hammer me into your latest weapon…” Dangerous claws rest lightly on either side of the bold insignia across Megatron’s chest. Framing the violet brand with fanned fingers like wings. Idly tracing the angular symbol with a curious digit. Starscream’s thin mouth is so near, his waist would almost certainly be wrapped in a single servo and Megatron would exert no strength drawing him in and claim that wicked smile for his own.

“Would I still belong to myself?” When he speaks Starscream’s helm scrapes Megatron’s cheek, sharp denta peeking from a whispering mouth.

His greater hands were hovering on either side of slim hips, their dark color bathed in red from quickly flaring lights strewn about Starscream’s elegant body. He was warm and close, and all Megatron had to do was tell him what he wished to hear and he might have finally caught the elusive seeker. Could grasp handfuls of sleek metal and see how sharp those edges were beneath his touch, test how wide those daunting legs could spread…

He just needed to deceive, and he would win.

“No.” Hums in the scarce space between them. “You would be mine, and I would not let you go.” Answers honestly and Starscream’s face flickers with surprise. An expression Megatron has yet to see before and will commit to memory for when the body leaves but the weight and heat of him remains.

“Well, there’s your answer.” If Megatron hears disappointment in Starscream’s voice he cannot acknowledge such - or worse chase after it with promises too dangerous for him to grant. Reluctantly he remains still as the assassin slowly extracts himself from Megatron’s lap, taking no time in relocating down the platform steps. Delicate with slouching wings and a knitted expression unreadable from behind Megatron’s haze of frustration. He wouldn’t berate or mourn his choices later, as such holds no place in his time.

He would not allow himself to regret allowing Starscream out of his grasp even though the mocking emptiness of his grasp feels as severe as a bloodied loss on the battlefield.

“I expect payment once the death is confirmed.” He calls over a wing, casual and unaffected by how he leaves Megatron, sprawled and stiff in his throne, watching the beautiful frame gather itself and a glimmer of amusement catches Megatron’s sight. “And never hesitate to call, you know I love how well we work together.”

“As do I.” Megatron reciprocates, unable to resist the creeping grin coaxed by Starscream’s lean smile and flicker of wings as he begins his exit. Slow ease of hips as expected (and feared) somehow lessening the pain in exchange for the view. “Until next time, Starscream.”

“Until then, my liege.”

 

 


End file.
